


How to Woo Your Beloved, Or: The Bird Song, Hogwarts Edition

by OlianderWilde, streitkartoffel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: As much awkward as we can pack into a single fic, Multi, Songfic, a series of connected drabbles, aka very short chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24536278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlianderWilde/pseuds/OlianderWilde, https://archiveofourown.org/users/streitkartoffel/pseuds/streitkartoffel
Summary: DADA Professor Harry Potter gets romantic advice from his colleagues. He doesn't want any of it, but boy, does he get it.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. The Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> The song that inspired this fic is The Bird Song, as sung by The Merry Wives of Windsor.
> 
> Spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/track/2Xes5DV6lzdyeUcgAxQ0Nm?si=Fmmo4caVTJ2mkHEPH0rnNA
> 
> YouTube link: https://youtu.be/ltexb1RGv58

"Harry!" Ron called and Harry turned on his heel to face his best friend. "I searched the whole bloody castle for you, I didn't see anyone. 'Mione's running late, something about improperly filed request forms," Ron shrugged, looking flustered.

"Ron, Fridays are staff meetings. You know I'm here every - Oh, hey 'Mione," Harry waved at the witch jogging down the corridor to join them.

"How are you, Harry?" she asked, panting gently and leaning into Ron.

"Oh, well enough, I suppose," Harry shrugged, a half-smile quirking the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, Harry, you really should make a move," Hermione frowned at him, all concern and consternation.

"Yeah, we all know how that'll go," Harry replied half-heartedly.

"There's that nice clerk in my office, I could give you his owl address...?" 

"Leave off him, 'Mione. He can't help being in love with -"

" _Ron!_ " Harry cut him off, shocked at the near-slip.

"Honestly, Ronald!" Hermione chastised, rolling her eyes at her husband.

Ron held up his hands, placating, "Okay, okay. Sorry. But my point stands."

Just then, Peeves drifted through a classroom door, cackling madly, and continued on through the wall ahead.

The trio looked at the space Peeves had just vacated, then at each other.

"Err, I promised Fred & George we'd check out their new Hogsmeade branch, see how it's getting on," Ron suggested.

"And you were going to tell _your wife_ when..?" Hermione's patented 'I Beg Your Pardon' look made Ron flush brilliantly.

"It was just at lunch!" He defended, casting a tempus charm, "it isn't even 4 yet!"

"Can we just go to Hogsmeade and have your little domestic later?" Harry grinned wickedly.

Hermione's gentle _smack_ echoed down the corridor.

* * *

In the staff room, six pairs of widened eyes were locked on the door, left slightly ajar. Had they heard correctly?

Harry Potter was _in love_.


	2. Minerva

_ Hie, says the blackbird, sitting on a chair _

_ I once courted a lady fair! _

_ She proved fickle and turned her back _

_ Ever since then I'm dressed in black! _

It was strange for Harry, being in Minerva’s office now; it reminded him a little too much of getting in trouble as a student. The Deputy Headmistress was as stern as always, only tempered by a flicker of amusement since he had joined the staff. 

“This is getting out of hand, Professor Potter,” she frowned, looking at him over her spectacles as though he’d suddenly returned to adolescence. 

"I- am I in trouble?" Oh yes, just like his school days.

She didn't reply, simply nudged forward the scroll that was laying on her desk, and sat back in her chair. Her eyebrow rose as he hesitantly reached out to take it. This couldn't be good.   


“I’m so sorry, Minerva. I try to get them to listen, I swear, I even tried thre- er, nevermind. All they want to do is stare and giggle. It’s unnerving. And they write love notes in what are  _ supposed _ to be defense essays. I don't know what to do with that!”   


"Have a biscuit, Potter." 

Harry blinked, laid the parchment back on the desk, and opened his mouth to reply, but Minerva was quicker. 

"Now, the reason I asked you here was to talk, not about this specific letter by Miss Burrows, but the general concept of  _ 'love letters'. _ "   


"Love letters?" Harry asked.

"Your paramour! Have you written to them, to tell them of your feelings?" Harry manfully choked down his embarrassment as Minerva continued. "While this letter is rather inappropriate, at least this young lady knows what she wants and goes after it."

Harry's mouth had gone dry. If he slunk any lower in his chair, he was sure Hogwarts would take pity on him and the floor would simply swallow him whole. 

"I don't…" he started.

Minerva continued right over the top of his protest, "When I was younger,"  _ oh Merlin, please no _ "I had a very intense courtship with a young man. However, he never wrote to me, never showed he had anything other than a passing interest in me beyond..."

"Professor!" Harry stood up, very nearly knocking his chair over in the process. "Minerva. I, er," he cast around for some excuse, edging closer to the door.

"Thanks, for the talk, but actually, I... I think I'm alright, it's fine." At the last minute, Harry recalled her unimpressed glare the last time he had failed to take a biscuit and grabbed one at random from the perpetually-full tin.

"Thanks for the biscuit. Good day!" Harry turned and fled, stuffing the semi-stale shortbread into his mouth as he went.


End file.
